Narcissus Petals
by shattered amethyst
Summary: I'm really not sure if it should be PG or PG13, so I'll be safe. A response to the SFF challenge from the Dancing Dove. Do not read if you are terribly and horribly against slash. Otherwise, please R


Rating: PG 13 Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm making no profit from this. Everything belongs to Tamora Pierce.  
  
A/N This was written in response to the SFF challenge on the Dancing Dove. Please R&R.  
  
Narcissus Petals  
  
"Your Majesty, I assure you, it is true. I have done much research, and tested the idea both theoretically and practically. There's no reason that it shouldn't work, except for lack of power which, I assure you, poses no possible problem to me." His dark eyes were bright with the excitement, wisps of hair escaping the horsetail he had tied it into, framing his face. Numair Salmalin, one of the greatest mages in the world, reserved this expression for his scholarly interests -mostly his magic.  
  
"But you have not tried this, have you?" asked the King, his piercingly blue eyes not unkind.  
  
"Well, no, but I could," replied Numair. King Jonathan nodded.  
  
"That would help. If it would really work... who knows what may be possible..." he said in awe, his voice trailing off. Numair cleared his throat.  
  
"If I may begin now?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, of course," Jonathan masked his eagerness behind regality. Numair took a deep breath and plunged into the pool of his Gift. Slowly, step by step, he created a simulacrum the way he always created simulacra. This time, though, he didn't break the connection when he finished. Instead, he fed his power into the simulacrum, until it was full of his Gift. He created a pool of his Gift inside his simulacrum, and finally broke the connection without taking back any of the power he had put into it. He opened his eyes. Slowly, Jonathan reached out with his mind, searching the simulacrum for any flaws. He looked between Numair and the simulacrum uncertainly. He stared wonderingly at them.  
  
"Well?" asked Numair. Jonathan searched words.  
  
"It... it works. Better than I thought it ever could." Numair grinned, overcome with his success. A page knocked at the door. When given permission to enter, he trotted in and handed a message to Jonathan. Jonathan sighed.  
  
"I have to go," he announced. He dismissed the page and walked out, pausing at the door to say, "well done."  
  
Numair turned to his simulacrum. He looked over it carefully, reveling in his perfection. He had never appreciated himself so much as he did now. He reached out to it. He ran his fingertips over its hair, down its face, tracing its jawbone. It turned its -his- face to him, reaching up as well. Numair stepped closer, as did it. He ran his hands over its body, and felt his own. Now it, too, moved closer to him, so that they could feel each other's breath on their faces. Now the simulacrum was touching Numair back, wondering at the perfect sameness of them.  
  
Numair had always fascinated himself, but now that he was seeing such a realistic copy he felt it even more strongly. He could think of himself as an actual person, from the outside as opposed to only what he was to himself. He cupped its face bringing it so close that their noses were almost touching, their bodies pressed against each other. Numair leaned slightly forward again, bringing their lips together. He felt his own lips against his own, basking in the burning sensation it gave him.  
  
A door slamming in the hallway outside caused them to jump away from each other. They stared at each other breathlessly, Numair suddenly missing the warmth his own body had given him. He knew what he had to do now, that the simulacrum couldn't stay. He reached out with his Gift, then stopped. A tear rested on his dark eyelashes, as he stared into his own eyes, seeing his reflection in them. Once more, he stepped towards it. Just before he touched it again with his mind, he ran a finger down it's smooth cheek again, loving the smoothness of his own skin. He brought his hand down, and reached into the pool of his Gift that was in it. He brought the Gift back into himself, and then began to unravel it. So focused was he, that he missed the tears -his tears- that fell from his eyes in the simulacrum. When he opened his eyes again, he was alone. Numair sat in the nearest chair, his body still burning from his touch. A few moments later, he rose and straightened, walking over to the table in the corner. He picked up the mirror that lay there and held it up, gazing once again into the depths of his own eyes.  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
A/N Please review and tell me what you think of this... CC is very, very welcome, but short reviews are just as worthwhile. I love knowing what people think of my work, so press that lovely little button. Please? For me? *puppy eyes* 


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